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Sloane Halston had come to Salo to speak with Lady Meya Valdis and her peer. The Queen’s shared much in the way of secular concerns, and it was sometimes necessary to see someone in person, in order to settle certain matters of state. It was not entirely a bureaucratic visit, the Queen’s sister, a dual-caste Queen was a friend of hers. They had both come up under the Province Queen, where they learned their Craft, and the necessary lessons for a ruling Queen. It did not happen often, but Sloane was at least a little pleased that she could turn a business trip into something a little more personal and far less stressful.

Not that she had been plagued by new stresses for some time now. No, it was something else that buzzed at the back of her mind every night before bed. She had met Mikaela while serving in the Salo Court in her youth. As wards they had little but each other in which to entertain themselves. Mikaela was soft. Not in the way that one would call someone weak, but tender and empathetic. She was what Sloane had not been to this day, and perhaps it was those differences that had made them such good friend. They maintained their relationship via letters when visits became less frequent. Leaving her District was not something Sloane looked forward to, at least not for diplomatic reasons. No, if she wanted to get away it would be for some fun, a luxury that was not always available to her light Jeweled counterpart.

The Court Steward welcomed her entourage into a small waiting room. Kael’s had written extensively about all the work she was doing throughout the Province. She was so eager to be considered useful that Sloane had feared on one or more occasions that she would overtax herself. Still, the letters were optimistic. Rumors had circled as far down as Nivalla that the young Queen’s bonded male was enacted a price for betrayal. Though she did not have all the details, a familiar knot wound itself in Sloane’s stomach. The male was alive and Lady Valdis was all the better for it, but it was a blow no Queen should ever feel.

Sloane sat in one of the plush chairs, her eyes darting across to a cute tree sitting atop a nearby table. Its leaves were delicate, they reminded her of tea. The Valdis gardens were impressive, as most Queen’s private plots were. So much care and thought was put into their creations and it was interesting how no two were ever alike. There was much one could learn of a Queen by the state of her garden’s and those small aesthetic choices. Prince Stern stood at the door patiently, the only indication that someone approached was the slight straightening on the Master of the Guard’s back.

Her hand slid into his, as tiny as his wife’s had been, except this contact also came with a gentle Summer Sky breeze along the ragged edges of his grief. A Queen’s Touch, as only Queens had. Accustomed to the Healers in his family and the healing touch that came with them, he didn’t flinch or shy away. But this was different than what the Healers in his family did. This didn’t mend flesh or bind bones. This smoothed away the torn parts of him, erasing those charred bits just a bit more.

But not entirely. Never entirely.

His attention – from this beady, critical eyes, to the waiting energy in those muscles – was on her as she spoke, thanked him for joining them, introduced him to her Court Seer. He was not a fan of Black Widows, just because they tended to pry where not invited, but he did not curl his lip at her, nor did his demeanor indicate that dislike. His attention went to Thyra in a slow, steady movement of his eyes and posture. He could see that realization dawn in her eyes – the knowing that he had the sheer power to cause great damage to anyone in the room. But what separated him from the monster she thought he was was that he lacked the motivation, usually, to destroy.

When she explained that in order to do what she needed to do, he had to let her into his mind, it was then that his lip did curl.

Hjalmar took a deep, steadying breath, like a mountain inhaling the wind. “I do not like that idea,” he rumbled, voicing his opinion softly but directly. “But…I will comply.” The reason behind that compliance was that he assumed Signe was looking for information to protect her little haven and if there was something he had seen or knew that could help with that, it meant that his family would be protected as well.

But what Thyra would see would not be…pretty.

Or easy.

Already bracing himself for the pain the memories would bring, Hjalmar sat, his giant shoulders hunching to protect his fragile heart. “I warn you,” he said, “you will not like what you see.” That was the only thing he would say and it would be a great understatement. He held his hands, palms upturned, on his knees and bowed his head, putting himself in the most submissive of postures his giant frame would allow in this position.

“Get this over with,” he said, not quite growling but not just rumbling anymore. The sooner she picked through his brain, the sooner he could go back to his private grief.

“My Lady, Runner has been prepared and is eager to go.” The landen male walked over, no longer eyeing the Jeweled Guard who stood nearby. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” He asked, folding his hands in front of him. Sloane brushed the loose fine hairs off the white mare’s withers and shoulder. The Trotter was all things a hardy horse should be, tall, broad with long powerful legs and a pleasant temperament. Her tail was long and buff colored, just a shade darker than her stark white coat. Beneath the hairs her skin was dappled in a honeycomb of grey that darkened further down her legs. The female’s soft muzzle lifted toward the landen to seek out his pockets, her lips extending in a form of begging. “Yes, please make sure that Marlena has my bag and bring it to me. Has Prince Nivis been woken? she asked with a bit of restrained amusement.

“I don’t think anyone but Marlena would be brave enough to wake him Lady Halston.” Smiling she nodded, returning the brush to the bucket she checked her horses’s saddle once more, making sure the belt was secure.

While the sun was still yawning into wakefulness Sloane had been up and prepared for a good hour. The routine was well known throughout the house, even if it had first been received with some resentment and a whole lot of complaint. The Queen enjoyed the mornings to get herself ready for the day and commune with her land and animals. It was time for herself before Court could snatch up her attention. As such the staff had adapted, making sure her breakfast was hot and prepared by the time she wandered out from a shower and that the official start to her day would proceed without interruption to her morning rituals.

Today was different, however. There had been more to tend to than just her horses. Lorcan had been asleep when she peeked through the door. He had managed to fall both on and off the bed. A heavily tattooed arm dangled precariously, an exposed leg and curls of dark hair that concealed a curious tattoo on his back. It had felt like a violation of his privacy, so she had peeked into the dark room and opted to let the beautiful male sleep for a little while longer. Their meeting had ended abruptly and she was certain he noted. Lorcan had said the right things, he knew the boundary and respected it, but that didn’t mean he liked it. A few times she debated calling him back, the separation felt strange even though they had, until then, spent every moment apart. It didn’t seem rational to feel so attached, but then again she knew the bond had a tendency to bypass any logical reasoning.

Marlena was a stocky blond Blood female in her fifties. The woman ran the home better than any Hearth Witch Sloane had ever known. The curtains broke open, allowing the morning light to shine in through the bedroom’s floor to ceiling window. As they did, she entered with a tray, kicked out the legs beneath it and set it up close to the male’s bed. “Good Morning Prince Nivis.” She said cheerfully, a long curl falling between her eyes as she sighed and looked up at him with a bright smile. “I am Marlena. Lady Halston asked me to wake you. I hope you slept well.” She didn’t wait for an answer. Marlena was not the kind of woman who dawdled. Her hands patted down her broad hips. “There are fresh towels in the bath if you need, I’ve brought you some bacon, eggs and some links. Our Queen has been up since before dawn and is awaiting you in the stables. I’m sure you know the one.” Of course, he did, he had already taken a self-guided tour. “ I also left your leather’s on the nightstand. They are freshly oiled and repaired. I will be just outside if you need anything.” Hurry up was the implied tone beneath the niceties.

Marlena would not have lied. By the time Lorcan was done and found his Queen he would see she had dressed for a day of riding in slacks, and a thick royal blue and gold corset. She wore used leather gloves, her blonde hair pulled back and up into a ponytail, a few thin braids snaked within its length. She smirked softly as he approached, leading the mare out as a landen male stuffed packages of food into the saddle bags of a golden coated stallion.

“Good morning.” She smiled at him, the image of his left arm hanging off the bed coming to mind. “Sleep well?” she asked, already knowing the answer. The stallion turned his head and rudely nipped at Lorcan’s sleeve with his teeth as if trying to undo it. “This is Midnight’s golden Runner, or Runner for short.” The palomino male was taller than Edgar by at least four hands, with a thicker neck and hay spun colored crest and a thick neck. “And this is ‘Morning’s marvelous Flashpoint.’ We call her Marvy. They will be our guides today.” It was good to see him, it felt good, despite how the night ended. “Did you enjoy your first night? I hope it was comfortable.”

As a Queen, there was always something to do, even as winter closed in on the land. While the fields and flowers began their seasonal sleep and with the autumn harvest protected by preservation spells, Signe readied herself for the spring and its plantings. Her favorite season, obviously, though she appreciated the wheel of the year. If one didn’t take a moment to be thankful for winter, with its chilly winds and burrowing snows, how could one be thankful for summer, with its heat and harvest?

She was finishing up some quick notes to the farmers in the region when she heard footsteps approaching. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that it was her next appointment – well, her first appointment, really, but she had already been working for almost an hour today. It was time to take a break for breakfast but to focus also on another task.

Thyra stepped into Signe’s office and the Queen smiled welcomingly. “I’ve plenty of coffee and fresh pastries for us,” she said by way of greeting. “There might even be something with meat in it, if I heard the cook right. I’m about ready for some myself. I was up at sunrise. There’s a lot to get done today.” It wasn’t a complaint. There was no way it could be a complaint with the jovial smile on Signe’s face. She got up and rounded her desk, motioning for Thyra to seat herself (not that she needed much permission to do so nowadays) but her attention was mostly on the woman Thyra had brought with her. “Is this your friend?” Signe asked, even as she offered her hands to witch.

She was not surprised when the woman, dressed in the colors of the forest, bowed deeply to her, but her hesitation to greet the Queen in the traditional way showed. Signe made note – this was a wary woman, wily. And that made sense, given that she was part of the same Underground that Thyra knew. None of those people could afford laxity in their meetings. “I’m Signe Drachlan. You can call me Lady Drachlan or Signe. I don’t mind,” the Queen informed her conversationally. Formalities were great but if they made people feel even more at unease, Signe saw no reason for them.

“Have a seat,” Signe indicated. She took the one across from them and began pouring coffee. Once refreshments had been distributed, Signe, with her own cup of coffee, leaned back in her seat and said, “What news have you brought me?”

Always dutiful, Isbeil didn’t expect that she would be able to retire to her offices with Perry as soon as she got home. Instead, Gale had followed her, seeking the solace only she could provide and verified that she was comfortable with the events of the day. It did not take much to assure him and soon, he too left to check in with the guards. By tomorrow they would have more men posted on the estate and anyone with access to her would be thoroughly vetted, even if they had been once already. No doubt Perry would play a role in this, as trough some irony, Gale had taken him under his wing. Gale never let anything to chance and his silence would not be an indication that he was slacking.

Trust, it was one of the many reasons why she felt secure in her home. Fate had blessed her with two amazing bonded and there was not a single day she was not grateful for that fact. Even now as Perry entered her offices. “Start? Don’t you mean cap, or end the day? Trust me, there are days I wished I started early on the bottle.” she grinned at him tilting her head in that way she did when she was being playful. The taste of his lips had maintained their sweetness, even months after the fact. A finger brushed his jaw, tracing the sharp, defining line as the other idly played with his button. Inhaling deeply she made a soft sound of approval and pressed a chaste kiss against his bottom lip.

That whole dreadful incident bothered Perry, even more than he had indicated at the time. Maintaining her cool was critical to him maintaining his. It had stung that Jack had even approved the search, though she had sought a less confrontational field of discussion through the meeting. He was her cousin, family, and it was Odelle who was forced to rise to the occasion and put a stop to what could have been a grave insult. “No, I could see his face. After a while, ye learn to read the many scowls of Gale, even the most subtle ones.” The Master of the Guard would not have tolerated it, but he had faith that Peregrine wouldn’t either. If he had agreed, which she very much doubted, Gale would have stepped in. “I’m amazed he dinnae just end the meeting then and there. ‘e has before while in court when someone has overstepped.” And she’d let him because he was her Master of the Guard and she wouldn’t give anyone any excuse to think her faith had been misplaced in him.

Smoothing her thumb over the textured face of the button she lifted her freckled nose at him. “Don’t, ye saved me from having to ruin it worse. “ The corner of her pink mouth lifted into a smirk. The kiss was welcome and returned, her eyes momentarily closing blissfully. The enamored Queen brushed her hair back behind her bare neck and shoulder blades. Lace was not the softest fabric but it was elegant and the bright crimson paired perfectly with the copper dappling on her nose, cheeks, and chest. “Would ye care to do more of this in the future? Ill admit its not the most elegant of jobs. I was pleased, but not surprised you had done so well, especially under so much...uhm…how can I put it delicately?” She couldn’t, so she didn’t. The situation in which they were greeted had not been ideal, even if the rest of the meeting went well. “ Also…” she leaned back, fixing him with an amused but stern gaze. If anyone could pull it off it was a Scelt. “Where do ye get off offerin’ rides to others? These wings and everything beneath and against them fall under my purview, thank ye very much. Ill not be havin’ anyone ride my male, but me.” He could take that any way he wished.

Zhihao nodded, and it chilled him to know that someone so powerful and insidious dwelled within Tacea’s borders. He’d expected the spell to be a piece of work, but if it discomforted even his expert witness… Well, that made him uncomfortable, to say the least.

He sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you my suspects for fear of coloring your perceptions,” he said, “but I suppose now that you’ve had a chance to look upon it and form an impression, you need to know. I have reason to suspect that a Black Widow named Teiko Ueda leads a conspiracy to see the Shingetsu take the throne before their rightful time. However, Lady Ueda wears a Rose to Purple Dusk, so the spellwork that caused Ishiyo no Izayoi’s madness cannot be of her doing.”

That was where the theory fell apart. Without a way to actually connect the bracelet to Lady Ueda, he had no proof that would be admissible in a court of law - only hearsay and rumor. Prince Amamiya had done his job well, but a spy’s observations were not enough to go by, especially if you intended to accuse a great clan of treason.

“At present, I have no way of implicating Lady Ueda in the enchantment, and therefore no way of implicating her in the crime. The Black Widow who crafted the piece is missing - I presume her dead at this juncture - and I cannot well secure testimony from a corpse. If the Black Widow who wove the enchantment is a member of Lady Ueda’s house, or else mercenary enough to confess her involvement in exchange for a lighter sentence… that would help me immensely. But I cannot do anything until I know who she is.”

A Purple Dusk and a Sapphire, however, gave him something to go off. While Son Mi tried her connections, Zhihao would try his. Perhaps Prince Corro might even know who wore those Jewels…

“This has helped me immensely,” he said. “Lady Kim, do you need any more time with the piece, or should I have Amamiya-kun take us back?”